


When The Stars Go Blue

by CourageInImmensity



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: Angst, Bridge - Freeform, Clinn, F/M, Family, Gen, Love, Naley, OTH - Freeform, One Tree Hill - Freeform, Sad, clara - Freeform, ghost - Freeform, katie ryan, on the count of two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 13:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20489717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourageInImmensity/pseuds/CourageInImmensity
Summary: 7.21 missing moment: After Lydia's death, Haley's depression begins to affect Jamie. When Katie messes with him, Clay decides to join Quinn and the 7-year-old on the Rivercourt after their treasure hunt and finds unexpected healing in balloons soaring away and a little gold star. Featuring slight Clara and lots of sappy Clinn / Jamie / Nathan support through Haley's misery.





	When The Stars Go Blue

**When The Stars Go Blue**

The chill of the November evening was setting in as Clay Evans stood on the wrong side of Tree Hill's highest bridge. Behind him the fleet of cop cars revved their engines and pulled away one by one. When Clay had fleetingly glanced over his shoulder a little while earlier, his gaze had been drawn almost magnetically to the car Katie Ryan had been shoved into. He could still picture her unnerving stare when her face had been pressed right up against the car's windowpane. Balancing carefully on the bridge's stone ledge, Clay held up his hand and stared at it in disgust. This palm had recently been pressed into Katie's for just long enough to allow the police to grab her, but it felt contaminated. With a deep frown, Clay returned his grip to the cool stone ledge behind him and stared into the dark water far below.

"It's a long way down, isn't it?" said a painfully familiar voice softly to his left and Clay jerked his gaze away from the merciless ocean. Sara was standing on the ledge beside him, dressed inappropriately for this time of year in the tiny shorts and pale pink tank top she'd been wearing the day they met in college.

Clay's vision blurred as he stared at her longingly; "I'm sorry, angel," he choked. "That…psycho, I let her steal the count of two!"

Sara tilted her head as she returned his gaze, the grim line of her mouth contrasting the cute nerves of their first meeting on the bridge all those years ago. Her hand slid along the smooth stone edge of the bridge and came to rest above his shoulder, hovering of course. "No," she said simply. "Don't you remember what I told you?" Clay continued to stare at the lapping waves far below them and Sara went on gently; "You can't erase who we were or what we had…no one can!" She followed his tortured gaze to the rough waters beating against the bridge. "No psycho can steal anything. It happened, didn't it? It was real once, right?"

"Forever," he said in a pained whisper. "It just feels like such a…violation, I guess," he sighed. A particularly violent wave thrashed against the bridge and Clay stared at it, transfixed. "She's not you," he said softly.

Sara nodded carefully, her hand still hovering around his stiff shoulders. "No, she isn't," she agreed. "And neither is Quinn, you know that. But this," she gestured vaguely at the violent waves; "isn't the answer to anything."

Clay frowned at her; "What are you talking about?"

"Clearly you're forgetting how well I know you, knucklehead," she sighed affectionately. "Any sane person would have climbed back onto solid ground by now."

"I'm already having a conversation with a ghost," he retorted. "Hardly qualifies as sane, now does it?"

"Not the point, babe," she said seriously. "What are you still doing on this bridge?" She glanced down at the water and gulped, channeling the fear of that college stunt years ago. "This isn't a little drop like the lake in Durham was; you're dead if you fall!"

The spirit tried to smile but Clay's misery made it impossible, she was after all in his imagination. "Maybe that's what I'm after," he challenged grimly.

"You don't really mean that," she said knowingly. "Besides, who's going to tell our story to the grandkids if you give up today?"

As if on cue, dark clouds rolled across the skies overhead, mirroring the weather of that initial college dive into the lake many years earlier. As raindrops began to ripple the ocean below, Clay finally tore his gaze away from the water and stared at Sara's pleading face instead. "I already gave up on Logan," he said heavily and her soft brown eyes clouded with sadness. "I let him and you down over a year ago, what else matters?"

"You didn't," she insisted. The hand floating around his shoulders landed gently on the stone edge of the bridge and inched towards his limp palm. "You are my hero, Clay Evans and I am so proud of your strength, every day." She finally managed a smile, even as a figment of his imagination; "The only thing that would make you a total idiot is doing this jump," she said frankly. "Once you're dead, there's no return, I would know."

Clay glanced down at his hand, freezing from prolonged contact with the steadily dampening stone ledge. Sara's fingers were curled around it, but of course he couldn't feel them. "Climb back over…please," she begged. "On the count of two?"

"I miss you," he breathed.

Sara just sent an air kiss flying in his direction and held up two fingers of the hand not faking contact with his. Clearly balance was not an issue for spirits. "One," she said softly and Clay reluctantly swung one leg over the precarious ledge. "Two," she prompted and just like that he was back on solid ground. "Well done," she said earnestly but Clay couldn't bring himself to smile. "That's a good look for you," Sara teased, the steady drizzle had started plastering his hair flat but odd tufts defiantly stuck out at all over the place.

"I kind of wish I had stayed out there longer," he said bitterly. "You're going to disappear again now."

"As if that matters," Sara smiled. "I know the real reason you didn't jump, it wasn't for me."

"Of course it was," he protested but Sara shook her head firmly.

"You remember what I said about the special client with integrity and character you'd find one day?" she asked.

"And heart," Clay finished the thought softly. "Of course I do."

"Nathan Scott is that guy," she said. "His family loves you and more importantly, Quinn loves you." Clay's eyes were full of anguish as he stared at her, but Sara's voice stayed calm and soothing; "She's not going to erase me, see? You still remember everything," she pointed out. "I'm just saying you definitely have plenty to live for. Promise me you'll never try this again!"

"Katie just really freaked me out," he confessed. "It was like having you back but, you know…not. She is seriously deranged."

Sara nodded sadly and pointed at his heart; "I have my place in there now," she said softly. "You'll never lose that, okay? That's my promise." She took a step back with a deep sigh; "Call Quinn," she urged. "Right now!"

"I love you, angel," he choked and she nodded again, still backing away slowly.

"You're going to be just fine. Really listen to your heart, it's more than big enough for me and her," she promised gently. "Now call her…on the count of two," she grinned. Clay leaned back against the cool stone of the bridge, keeping his eyes locked on the spirit as he hesitantly pulled out his cell phone. She kept smiling encouragingly and held up two fingers, dropping first one, then the other as his countdown. He dialed Quinn's number slowly and by the time he connected the call, Sara had vanished.

Down on the River Court meanwhile, Quinn James was tying the treasure map which had guided her escapades across Tree Hill with Jamie to a bunch of helium balloons when her phone rang. Clinging to the balloons bobbing defiantly in the breeze, she handed the phone to Jamie; "Could you get that please, buddy?"

"Sure." Her nephew shot her a toothy grin and took the cell phone from her. "Quinn James' phone, Jamie Scott speaking," he said in his best impression of a posh receptionist. Quinn bit her lip to suppress a giggle at his antics but the smile faded when Jamie handed the phone to her, reaching for the bunch of balloons in exchange. "It's Clay," he told her; "I think something's wrong, he sounds kind of upset."

Frowning in concern, Quinn pressed the bunch of balloons into his waiting hands and took the phone instead; "Hey babe," she said quickly; "What's up?"

"Just needed to hear your voice," he said softly. "Where are you?"

"On the Rivercourt," she said. "I'm hanging out with Jamie today, remember? We just finished the treasure hunt I prepared. Jamie wants to let the map float away with a bunch of helium balloons now so that someone else can find the treasure. We actually buried it again, he's the sweetest."

"Right," he said, still sounding weirdly strained. "That sounds like fun."

"What's wrong?" she pressed. "You sound a little…off."

"Would letting go of some balloons help?" Jamie cut in curiously. "You said letting them fly away is like sending our problems away, right?"

"That's right, I did," Quinn smiled, stroking his hair affectionately. To Clay she added; "Jamie's asking if you want to join us down here. We're letting the balloons fly away with our troubles. Does that sound like a plan?"

"You're adorable," Clay said, sounding slightly more normal to her relief. "That sounds great. Hang on to them; I can be there in ten minutes. I was just at the pier bridge…don't ask."

"Okay," she said simply, afraid that saying much more would betray her concern. "We're waiting, see you soon, okay? I love you, Clay."

"You're such a softie," he said; secretly glad for her sentimental streak. "I love you, too. I'll be there soon."

"What's gotten into him?" Jamie wondered when she had hung up the call. "That was really weird, right?"

"I'm not sure, but I intend to find out," Quinn vowed. She forced a smile for Jamie's benefit; "Anyway, he said he'll be here in a couple of minutes so we should just hang onto those balloons until he does. Think you can do that?"

"Duh," Jamie laughed; "The treasure hunt was already so much fun; hanging onto the balloons a little longer won't hurt."

"Well I'm glad you had fun," she said fondly. "That gold star you kept from the treasure chest might even help your Mom if you're lucky. Tree Hill can be a very magical place, you know. You just have to believe that everything's gonna be okay, even when it seems hard."

"It's definitely hard right now," her nephew admitted. "I just want to see Mom smile again, that's all." He took the gold star out of his pocket and gave it a squeeze. "Do you think she'll like the star?"

"I know she will," Quinn promised, hoping with all her heart she was right. She pulled Jamie into a hug, careful not to let the balloons loose yet and was just pressing a comforting kiss to the top of his head when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Uncle Clay!" Jamie squealed, proving her suspicions right. The seven-year-old lurched towards Clay and was nestled in his arms by the time Quinn turned around.

"Your hugs deserve awards, Jimmy Jam," he joked, but Quinn looked suspiciously straight into his dark blue eyes. "Are the balloons ready to go?" he asked, deflecting Quinn's worried gaze.

"Got 'em right there," Jamie told him, pointing to the handle of the treasure chest where he had finally fastened the bunch of multi-colored helium balloons. "Aunt Quinn says that all the bad vibes will go away when we let go of those balloons. I really hope she's right, Mom's been way too sad lately."

At Jamie's innocent words, Clay met Quinn's gaze and suddenly got the feeling the concern and sadness in her eyes was way too intense to be just for him. "Your Mom's a tough cookie, Jamie," he said simply, hugging the boy a little tighter. "She misses your Grandma but she'll get through this, you'll see." Jamie looked up at him so hopefully, it put all thoughts of Katie's drama out of his mind. "What do you say we let go of those balloons now? It's about time to push out the sadness, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Quinn agreed, beckoning Jamie over to the treasure chest to help her untie the bunch of balloons. She separated them carefully, handing two each to Jamie and Clay. "On three we'll let them fly, okay?" she said and Jamie nodded eagerly, clinging to his bobbing red and yellow balloons. "One…two…three!"

"Uncle Clay, you let go too soon," Jamie commented, staring at the two blue balloons rising ahead of the four others he and Quinn had let fly.

"I guess I did," Clay said softly, looking up at the clear blue sky without really seeing the rising specks that were the balloons. "On the count of two," he said so quietly he was sure nobody would have heard. But Quinn sidled closer and slipped her hand into his, squeezing hard while Jamie watched the rapidly shrinking balloons drift away.

"Don't think this is over, mister," she told him. "You better tell me what that call was about. I was worried, you know."

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled half-heartedly but for all her affection Quinn was practically glaring at him now, her expression was so stern.

"Remember what you said to me when my Mom was sick?" she argued. "About how you were the poster boy for suffering alone but I didn't have to be? I hope you know I'm not going to leave this alone, either. Not ever! From now on, your problem is my problem, are we clear?"

"You are so special, Quinn James," he murmured, oblivious to Jamie's watchful gaze as he wrapped her up in a tight embrace. "I don't know anyone else who cares so much."

"You know that insanely in love thing you promised?" she teased, returning his warm hug. "The feeling's totally mutual, in case that wasn't obvious."

"Well I've been told I can be a bit of a knucklehead," he said, pulling back when Jamie came over to them and nudged Quinn even harder into his arms. "You have an agenda there, Jamie Scott."

"Yup," Jamie grinned. "If I can't make Mom smile at least I can make you two keep going totally mushy."

"Jamie!" Quinn protested; "I think it's almost bedtime for a certain treasure-hunter. Let's go home before your Dad gets worried, okay?"

"If we have to," the seven-year-old said with a resigned sigh. He fell into step between Clay and Quinn, holding both their hands as they walked back to her car nearby. "Mom doesn't feel enough to even worry anymore. I really hope the gold star helps."

Neither of them knew what to say to cheer Jamie up, so the short drive back to the Scott house commenced in miserable silence. Nathan was waiting for them in the driveway, looking more on edge than Quinn could remember seeing him through any of the drama of the past year. "How's she doing?" she asked, giving him a hug while Clay let Jamie out of the backseat of the Jeep.

"She's the same," he sighed. "I really don't know how to help her get past this. Thanks for giving Jamie a break from the misery in this house. She's been kind of hard on him lately and even though we know why…she's not herself and he's too young to understand the reason."

"I think you might be under-estimating your kid, Nate," Clay told him, staggering around the side of the car with Jamie on his back like a clingy monkey. "He might not get exactly what's going on with Haley but he sure knows how to get us all to do exactly what he wants. Isn't that right, Jame?"

"You are too easy," the seven-year-old laughed, running up to Nathan with the gold star in his fist. "Dad, look what I found! Aunt Quinn took me on a treasure hunt today, it was so cool. She says this gold star will help Mama feel better. Isn't it pretty?"

"Wow," Nathan said, forcing every ounce of enthusiasm he could muster with Haley's depression hanging like a dark cloud over the house. "It's beautiful, son. Sounds like Aunt Quinn is a pretty good fixer, huh?"

"I can vouch for that one," Clay said seriously, slipping his arm around Quinn's shoulders as Jamie darted indoors saying something about a drawing to go with the star when he showed it to Haley later. "She's gifted."

"Oh, stop," Quinn laughed, fighting a blush at his words. She turned seriously to Nathan; "What else can we do to help?"

"You want to stick around until Jamie goes to bed?" he suggested. "He's obviously happy to have you guys around. Maybe stay to tuck him in if you don't have plans?"

"That sounds perfect," said Quinn and Clay nodded his agreement. "Try and relax for a while, okay? We'll keep him busy, with pleasure." She patted Nathan's shoulder in passing, tugging Clay after her by the hand.

"He's not really going to stop worrying, is he?" Clay remarked as they trooped up the stairs to Jamie's bedroom.

"None of us are," Quinn sighed. "Don't think this means I've forgotten about whatever made you call earlier. You're gonna have to tell me what that was all about eventually, just so you know."

"Can we please focus on Jamie right now?" he groaned. "What, a compliment isn't good enough for you? You make everything better for me, Q."

"And I'm flattered but I still want you to let me in when something's bothering you," she stressed. "Which clearly something was or you wouldn't have called out of the blue, isn't that right?"

"You're getting all this from the fact that I like hearing your voice?" he said skeptically. "Maybe I just like talking to you."

"You're a very bad liar, Clay," she laughed, kissing his cheek when he rolled his eyes in frustration. "We're not done talking about this and that's final. Right now Jamie needs us, hold that thought."

When Clay and Quinn entered Jamie's bedroom, they found the seven-year-old lying on his stomach on the bed, surrounded by an assortment of blank paper and color pencils. Chester was on the floor at the foot of the bed, pawing at the dangling edge of the bedspread. Quinn scooped up the bunny and scratched the top of his head gently; "Quite an art project sprouting here, kiddo," she marveled at the messy sight.

"Because I can't decide what to draw," Jamie moaned. "I really need Mama to love it. The star is so pretty, the drawing to go with it has to be perfect."

"It's going to be perfect whatever you draw, bud," Quinn promised. "Because it's coming from you with love, that's the most important thing."

"You think so?" he pressed hopefully and his aunt nodded and kissed him on the forehead.

"It's a fact," she said simply. "Isn't that right, Clay?" There was no answer and Quinn turned to find Clay staring transfixed at Jamie's small television. "What are you watching?"

"What is he watching is the better question," Clay spluttered. "Dude, you're seven!"

"It's just Gossip Girl," Jamie shrugged. "I've been watching since I was five, it's so bad for me." He laughed at the outraged look on Clay's face. "Relax, Uncle Clay, it's just teen drama. I was actually kidnapped when I was five, this is nothing."

"You remind me of my niece when she was your age," he said at last; "When she was seven her guilty pleasure was Grey's Anatomy."

"That's cool," said Jamie distractedly, staring contemplatively at his variety of pencils. "I think I'll do a family picture," he decided finally. "It's the most important thing there is. If I can just get Mom to smile again everything will be fine." He fell silent in concentration when he began to draw the stick figures representing himself and Nathan, connected to Haley by a dotted line.

"Ouch," Quinn hissed, dropping the bunny suddenly when he scratched her hand. "What the hell, Chester?"

"I think you were squeezing him too hard," Clay pointed out. "You okay?"

"Fine," she said dismissively. "It's just a scratch."

"That's not what I meant, babe," he said, nodding in Jamie's direction. "You went a little rigid when the kid mentioned Haley. It's no wonder Chester didn't like it."

"Yeah?" she said vaguely. "I didn't even realize…um, I guess I want the same thing he does. If she doesn't get past this…God, I can't even imagine it. She's always been the strongest one of us, you know?" She looked at him with the same pale blue eyes as Lydia, the woman who less than a month ago had been alive and telling him he was the reason her worried look was a thing of the past. At the present moment it was very much back and he would have given anything to make her the girl telling him that he gave her butterflies again.

"Maybe that's the problem," he said simply, at a loss for how to put everything the pain in her eyes made him feel into words. "You know, maybe she's just been the strong one for too long. I can sort of relate to that, unfortunately."

"Because of Sara, right?" she guessed, looking puzzled when he shook his head.

"Even closer than that, actually," he said. "Did I ever tell you how my Dad died? We sure did a lot of talking down on the beach when you started staying over."

"Yeah, we did," she said, smiling at the memory of those early moments of him confiding in her. "We talked about Sara mostly though, you mentioned how much your Mom worries about you but your Dad never really came up."

"He was in a plane crash when I was eighteen," he confessed softly. "It was a month before I started college and for a while I didn't think I'd be able to leave home." Quinn was gaping at him, completely stunned by the revelation, but Clay kept talking. "My sisters came back to Raleigh from England for the memorial service. Between the two of them not really getting along and my Mom falling apart I kind of had to be the strong one. It's not really surprising that she was so upset when she found out I buried my wedding ring and vowed never to love again."

"How do you ever get over something like that?" she asked and now her eyes were almost pleading with him for any pearls of wisdom that would fix her sister.

Not wanting to say the wrong thing and disappoint her, Clay simply pressed her close. When her head was angled against his chest and his heartbeat pounding in her ears, he finally spoke. "You don't," he said softly. "You learn to accept it and cope at best but that's not the same thing as getting over it. Only if you get really lucky, you might find someone who understands the immensity of your loss and still pushes her way into your heart anyway. Sound familiar?"

"Vaguely," Quinn mumbled with a faint smile, relishing the sensation of his fingers trailing through her hair. "You mean someone who keeps knocking and won't accept no for an answer, even when her man is being a stubborn knucklehead?"

"Exactly that kind of someone," he nodded and pressed a kiss into her hair. "I got insanely lucky. Jamie's faith in you is so deserved, you really are a fixer and I'll never forget the girl who faced her lifelong fear of the ocean just for me."

"To be fair you looked totally hot out there," she winked. "How was I supposed to resist, hmm?"

"Well I am selfishly glad you couldn't resist," he said and was just about to kiss her lips when Jamie cleared his throat and held his drawing up between them.

"All finished," he declared. "What do you guys think?"

"Really, kid?" Clay groaned; "You couldn't hold off for one more minute?"

"Nope," the seven-year-old smirked, lifting Chester onto his lap when he had handed the drawing to Quinn. "I want to show the drawing to Mom as soon as possible so she can start smiling again. It'll work, right?"

The tentative hope in his eyes was too much for Quinn and she turned her back on him, hugging the drawing to her chest. Clay had sensed her upbeat optimism gradually slipping away the whole time Jamie was doodling and now sat down next to him on the bed. "Jamie, listen," he began solemnly. "Moms are very important people to all of us. Obviously you know that because you want to see her happy again more than anything. But she's lost her Mom, you know. I know it's hard but you have to give her time to deal with how that makes her feel. The drawing might make her smile, sure. But just remember in case it doesn't, that doesn't mean it's not beautiful. It might just take her a little longer to appreciate it, okay? Keep showing her how much you love her and eventually, she'll get the message through all her darkness."

"I don't like the dark," Jamie said sadly. "How do you know she'll find a way out of it?"

"I can't promise anything, buddy," Clay told him. "But you did get her a gold star, right? Let it be a little thing to start with, like a light in her darkness. I was lost in darkness like that not so long ago, you know. Aunt Quinn was a big part of my light and obviously she loves your Mom more than anything. We won't give up on her, kid. Hopefully one day soon she'll feel all our light and feel better."

Jamie reached for the gold star in the middle of all his art materials and gave it a squeeze. "You'll stay till I give it to her, right?" he asked quaveringly. "I really want to give her the light back."

"We're not going anywhere, buddy," Clay promised and the seven-year-old climbed onto his lap and hugged him tightly. "We all want that fire of hers to come back soon."

"Thanks, Uncle Clay," Jamie mumbled, how hard he was clinging the main giveaway that his hope was hanging by a thread.

"It's going to be okay, kid," Clay told him seriously, returning the comforting hug. "You might just need some patience till it does, that's all." There was an audible sniff just then and Clay looked up, still holding on to Jamie. "Are you crying, Q?" he asked in disbelief.

"Your fault," she muttered, wiping furiously at her eyes. "You just called me your light. That's the sweetest thing since you put insanely in love with me in your contract with Nathan."

"It's sweet so it made you cry?" Clay mused, shaking his head in amusement. "Jamie, you are so lucky you're not expected to understand how girls tick yet."

The boy laughed at that, but when his grip on Chester slackened the bunny hopped to a free spot on the bed and stared up at Quinn. "Oh man, Jimmy Jam I think the bunny is judging me," she said, staring back into the rabbit's dark eyes.

"Well, you did kind of drop him," Jamie pointed out with a shrug. "He doesn't like that at all, you know. He'll stay mad at you for a while now probably." He obligingly lifted Chester up and placed him back in the cage on his desk. "There, problem solved."

"Now will you get over here, you crazy sap?" Clay demanded and Quinn was finally able to sit down next to him and curl against his shoulder. Clay glanced at the bunny's cage; "Chester, you're the crazy one if you can honestly stay mad at this girl," he said simply.

"Babe, are you seriously lecturing a bunny to love me?" Quinn giggled disbelievingly.

"Everyone on the planet should love you in my book," he shot back, completely seriously.

"And you think I'm the adorable one," she sighed affectionately. "That's so cute."

"Nah, just honest," he replied. "You're the one who called me a bad liar, have some serious truths instead."

Quinn smiled genuinely at him, but before she could find the words to express how much she loved him, Jamie leapt to his feet. "Guys, that's super cute and all but can we please go and give Mom the gold star now?" he begged. "The sooner she gets the light back the better, right?"

"Very true, Jamie," Clay agreed, inwardly cursing the fact that the reminder had once again extinguished Quinn's loving smile. He kept his arm around her when they stood up; "Do you want to leave it in her room?"

"I think so," the boy nodded. "She sleeps a lot these days. If I can get it onto her pillow she'll definitely see it, don't you think?"

"Good thinking, bud," Quinn said approvingly and reached behind her for the drawing lying on the bed again. Jamie was already grasping the gold star tightly in his shaking fist. "Are you okay, little man?"

"I just really hope this helps," Jamie said softly. "I want my Mom back." As soon as he said it there were muffled noises on the landing and Clay peeked out into the hall while Quinn gave her nephew another hug.

"You guys, the coast is clear," Clay whispered, beckoning the two of them quickly. "Haley just went to the bathroom, here's our shot."

"This is hardly a secret mission, honey," Quinn pointed out. "You're such a nerd."

"It's more fun this way," he argued back, pouting at her while Jamie darted across the hall ahead of them. "You dropped the sacred star, soldier," he hissed in the boy's wake. Quinn bent down to pick it up and soon they were watching Jamie fluff up the pillows on his parents' bed. The seven-year-old propped up his drawing against Haley's pillow and placed the glinting ornament on top of it when Quinn passed it to him. "Mission accomplished!" Clay cheered, restraining his natural childish glee at the exasperated look on Quinn's face. "Fine, be like that. The gold star has landed; no big deal whatsoever."

"I really do love you," she grinned, about to humor him with a kiss when Jamie tugged urgently on her sleeve and their attention snapped back to him.

"Mama saw the star," he whispered in an awed voice, watching Haley through the slightly ajar bedroom door. "Look!"

Clay and Quinn both gazed in the direction Jamie's finger was pointing and while he purposefully squeezed her comfortingly, Quinn felt the tears burning in her eyes again. Haley was perched on the edge of her bed, holding the shiny gold star to her heart with her head bowed and eyes closed. "What was your message on the drawing, kid?" Quinn asked in a low voice, the sight wrenching at her heart-strings.

"You are our treasure," Jamie whispered back. "It's a message from me and Daddy because the drawing has all of us on it. We have our basketball obviously but we need Mama and her music back to make the picture complete again. Do you think she likes it?"

"Well it sure looks like it made her feel…something," Clay pointed out. "That's a pretty good start, buddy. Great job!"

"Thanks," he said with a hesitant smile. Suddenly a light switched off on the floor below them and Jamie glanced at the stairs with a start; "Uh oh, Dad's gonna be so mad I'm not in bed yet." With that he turned and hurtled back across the landing to his room.

By the time Clay and Quinn followed, Jamie's bedroom door had slammed shut and Nathan had emerged on the landing at the top of the stairs. "Did I just hear Jamie's voice?" he asked. "It's way past his bedtime, you guys."

"We know, one job, right?" Clay laughed and ducked into Jamie's bedroom. "He'll be down and out in a minute, relax buddy."

"Fail," Nathan smiled in spite of himself, but then he realized that Quinn hadn't said a word. She stood before him with suspiciously glassy eyes, breathing shakily. "You okay, Quinn?"

"Fine," she squeaked unconvincingly. "It's just…it's Haley, you know? I've never seen her like this and it's killing me that I don't know how to fix it."

"I know exactly what you mean," he sighed. "When Jamie was out with you today I took Haley on a drive to try and get her to talk to me. Needless to say, it didn't have quite the effect I was hoping for."

"It's really getting Jamie down," she said sadly. "I wish there was more we could do, that's all. Clay keeps calling me a fixer; it clearly doesn't apply to everyone."

"Well if it makes you feel better, it definitely applies to him," Nathan told her and Quinn frowned at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Quinn, you got more about his past out of him in a couple of months than I did in over a year," he pointed out and was glad when it caused a shy smile.

"Oh, that," she said casually. "It wasn't hard to just listen, you know. We were both struggling, he had Sara's loss and I had David not willing to let go. You just believed the mask he put up and I didn't, that's all."

"He really is a great agent," Nathan admitted. "I guess I just feel bad for not noticing there was such a sad reason behind the intense work ethic."

"Don't feel bad, it took me forever to get past the walls too," Quinn told him. "At first I persevered because I was curious why he kept pushing me back to David. And now he can't get away with lying to me anymore, definite progress," she laughed. "He really knew how to cheer Jamie up, there's definitely hope for Haley."

"I really hope you're right. Thanks for keeping him busy today. I'm sure a distraction from how Haley's acting did him good."

"You thanked us already," Quinn reminded him. "There's no need, okay? We want him…and Haley to be happy again just as much as you do."

"I know you do." Nathan hugged her gratefully and that was how Clay found them when Jamie's bedroom door creaked open again a moment later.

"Oh, I see how it is," he joked at the sight. "Get your own James girl, dude, she's mine!"

"Shut up, Evans," Nathan laughed, entirely too briefly before switching back into concerned parent mode. "Is Jamie asleep?"

"Out like a light," Clay nodded. "He was concentrating so hard on getting that drawing perfect, must have taken it out of him."

"Good." Nathan nodded stiffly, looking from his agent to Quinn and back. Even in his perpetual state of stress and concern, he couldn't help but notice that Quinn looked instantly more relaxed with Clay's arm around her shoulders. "Thanks for sticking around, guys."

"Of course," Quinn said gently and somehow the affection in her eyes initiated a group hug from a single glance at Clay. "Everything's gonna be okay, Nate," she swore, willing the words to be true. "And as long as it's not we'll be here." She narrowed her eyes at Clay; "Speaking of which, didn't you have something to tell me, babe?"

"You're unbelievable," he groaned; "Is this really the time, Q?"

"There's never a good time for your own problems, is there?" she argued. "Fine, but don't think I've forgotten for a second." Her gaze softened; "How can you call me a fixer if you won't talk to me?"

"That's not fair," he protested. "You know I'd tell you if it was remotely as important as the suffering in this house."

"Would you really though?" she demanded, vaguely aware that Nathan had backed off downstairs again and tactfully left them alone.

"All in good time, I promise," Clay said solemnly and with him squeezing her slender fingers and his dark blue eyes penetrating her very soul, Quinn chose to believe him.

"I don't want to nag or anything, I just really want to help. The poster boy for suffering alone can please go away, okay?"

"He's so far gone," Clay moaned, finding the flicker of concern in her pale blue eyes alternately painful and massively arousing. "You make me crazy, Quinn James."

"The promise was insanely in love for a reason, huh?" she said, hanging onto the collar of his shirt with desperate fists as he backed her up against the bathroom door.

"Absolutely," he agreed, the word barely audible as his lips pressed against her neck.

Quinn shivered at the pleasurable squirm in the pit of her stomach; "I do believe the butterflies are back," she gasped; "God, I love you."

"All good things," Clay smirked, pressing his palms to the door on either side of her head so that she couldn't escape. "Hold still!" At the demanding tone she stiffened obligingly, one hand lifting to entwine his fingers with hers while his lips came closer and closer.

"Nathan will hear," she groaned half-heartedly when his face was inches from hers.

"Buzzkill, baby." The look of childish disgust on his face made Quinn even more desperate for the lingering kiss well within her reach.

"Screw it," she said firmly. "Insanely in love is in your contract now, so there!"

"Damn, my girl is hot and a genius," Clay said approvingly. His fingers trailed across her cheeks, stroking her hair in ways that made her feel weak. The heat in her belly was so strong that she could barely keep her eyes open, but his intense blue-eyed gaze held an unspoken promise that all would be right with the world if this moment could just last forever. So she stopped fighting the urge to kiss him and kept her arms around him until long after she should have come up for air. As even Lydia had known in her final moments, love would be the thing to save them all.

**A/N The Clara opening of this story has been lying abandoned for three years, finally found a direction for the story and it turned sappy as hell. Enjoy everyone! xx**


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